Worn Me Down (Playing With Fire, #3) by T.E. Sivec, Tara Sivec

leg or a lobotomy I’m unaware of?” I ask with a laugh.
    “Ha, ha. You’re hilarious,” she tells me before starting up the car. “We need to get back to the office so I can print these pictures off and show them to Mrs. Anderson.”
    And just like that, sharing time is over.
    When we get back to the office, while Gwen is busy printing the photos and calling Mrs. Anderson to schedule a meeting, I go outside and pull out my phone. Brady answers on the first ring.
    “What’s going on, is something wrong?” he asks in a worried voice.
    “No, Mr. World Traveler, nothing is wrong. How’s tour bus life treating you?” I ask as I pace back and forth in front of the building.
    “Cramped, shitty food and not a lot of sleep, but it’s good. Layla is doing amazing. Every venue has been sold out,” he tells me with admiration.
    I look through the front window and see Gwen on the phone with her back to me. “Listen, I need to ask you something about your sister.”
    Brady is quiet so I quickly continue. “What’s the deal with her? You need to tell me why I’m here and what’s really going on. It’s more than her just having a little ‘personal shit’ and you wanting to make sure your business runs smoothly, isn’t it?”
    Brady lets out a deep sigh and I wait for his explanation.
    “Look, I’m probably just being a protective older brother and I’m sure she’s pissed at me, but you’re right. It has nothing to do with the business. I know she’s perfectly capable of running that place with her eyes closed,” he admits.
    “So, what is it? What the fuck is going on with her?” I demand.
    “You just need to trust me, man. She was… let’s just say she didn’t leave New York under the best circumstances. I don’t know everything, but I know enough. It was bad, Austin, really bad. I’d tell you if I could, but I just can’t do that to her. It’s her story to tell. She’s been through enough and it’s been a long road getting her to trust me again. I can’t betray her by spilling all of her secrets. I’m sure nothing is going to happen while I’m gone, but I’d rather not risk it while I’m so far away.”
    I continue to watch her through the glass, hating the fact that there are so many missing pieces of the puzzle that is Gwen. I’m starting to worry about her and feel bad for her and it’s pissing me off. I don’t have the time or the desire to care about someone, but I’d never go back on a promise.
    “You don’t have to worry, I’m not going anywhere. And hey, thanks for telling me your sister has a kid,” I complain.
    Brady laughs. “So, you met Emma? Has she made you sing any of Layla’s songs yet?”
    “No, and I’m pretty sure your sister’s not going to let me within ten feet of her again. I added to her college fund within ten seconds of meeting her,” I tell him.
    “Don’t let Gwen try to tell you that that stupid jar is completely full because of me. She’s got the mouth of a sailor,” Brady admits. “Look, I really appreciate you doing this for me. I know it’s hard when you have no idea what you’re getting into.”
    I end the call on a promise to sing at least one of Layla’s songs to Emma the next time I see her – and with me still having more questions than answers.

Chapter 8
    Gwen
    G rowing up, every movie or television show I ever watched where a woman was abused always made me shake my head in irritation. Who in their right mind would stick around and put up with that again and again? Didn’t these women have brains in their heads? I knew for a fact that if a man ever laid his hands on me, I would tell him off, kick his ass to the curb and never look back.
    It’s always easy to judge other people when you have no idea what kind of life they live behind closed doors, when you’ve never walked one footstep in their shoes or when you’ve never given your heart to a man you believed when he told you it would never happen again.
    I met William at a